"You, you—" he cried, but no words could come. He could only stutter and gape, with murder staring from his visage. As for me the passion in him roused in me a far greater. "Yes," I cried, my voice rising so that I scarce knew it for mine. "You villain, liar, deceiver, murderer, by the living God, the time has now come for your deserts. You tortured my love and harassed her with hateful captivity; you slew her brother, your friend, slew him in his cups like the coward you are; you drove me from my house and lands; you made me crouch and hide in the hills like a fox, and hunted me with your hell-hounds; you lied and killed and tortured, but now I am free, and now you will find that I am your master. I have longed for this day, oh, for so long, and now you shall not escape me. Gilbert Burnet, this earth is wide, but it is not wide enough for you and me to live together. One or other of us shall never go from this place." He made no answer but only looked me straight in the face, with a look from which the rage died by degrees. Then he spoke slowly and measuredly. "I think you are right, Cousin John," said he, "the world is too small for both of us. We must come to a settlement." And in his tone there was a spice of pity and regret. Then I knew that I had lied, and that this man was stronger than I. For a little we stood looking across the table at each other. There was an extraordinary attraction in the man, and before the power of his keen eyes I felt my wits trembling. Then, with his hand, he motioned me to sit down. "The morning air is raw, Cousin John. It will be better to finish our meal," and he called to his servant to bring in breakfast. I have never eaten food in my life under stranger circumstances. Yet I did not fear aught, but satisfied my hunger with much readiness. As for him, he toyed and ate little. Once I caught him looking over at me with a shade of anxiety, of dread in his gaze. No word passed between us, for both alike felt the time too momentous for any light talk. As the minutes fled I seemed to discern some change in his manner. His brows grew heavier and he appeared to brood over the past, while his glance sought the pictures on the walls, and my face in turn, with something of fierceness. When all was over he rose and courteously made way for me to pass, holding the door wide as I went out. Then he led me to a little room at the other side of the hall, whence a window opened to the garden. "You wish to be satisfied," he said, "and I grant you that the wish is just. There are some matters ’twixt me and thee that need clearing. But, first, by your leave, I have something to say. You believe me guilty of many crimes, and I fling the charge in your teeth. But one thing I did unwittingly and have often repented of. Michael Veitch fell by his own folly and by no fault of mine." "Let that be," said I; "I have heard another tale."